


General Mishap

by orphan_account



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Domestic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 01:13:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6544399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Simon encounters a problem that is entirely his own fault and Clary can't believe she's dating this idiot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	General Mishap

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the anon who requested ClarySimon + "What the hell were you thinking?"  
> This was so fun to write, because I have a lot of feelings about Clary and Simon being _that_ couple that has known each other forever and is therefore unbearable because they know each other inside out.

Before Clary can even start turning the key in the lock the door to the apartment opens and there is Simon standing in the doorframe.  
"Clary!" His voice is high-pitched and his cheeks are flushed. The smile that breaks out automatically at the sight of him dies on Clary's lips.

"Simon, are you oka-" The door slams shut with force and Clary jumps back in surprise. Her stomach tightens in anticipation.  
" _Simon?_ "

Footsteps.  
Scratching.  
Footsteps again.  
The door opens.

The gap between threshold and door is just big enough so Simon can fit his head inbetween.  
"Oh, hey Clary, I didn't see you there."

He shrinks back when Clary steps closer, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. He lowers his eyes so he doesn't have to look at her. After seventeen years, five of them spent living together, he still hasn't mastered the art of lying to her.

"What the hell, Simon?" He deflates visibly under her gaze in such close proximity. When he looks up there is something guilty in his eyes, backed by something hopeful. It's like he's already getting ready to grovel for forgiveness. Suddenly Clary isn't so sure she wants to know anymore. She's seen that expression only when-

"I may have done something stupid," he says. Clary tightens her grip on her keys and pulls them out of the lock. Her shoulders rise and slump when she sighs.  
"Okay first, don't ever slam that door in my face again."  
"Right."  
"Second, I live here, too, you know. Let me in, and then you can feel guilty."  
"Right," he repeats. "Before I do, though, I just want to remind you of that time you almost set fire to our entire school trying to-"

"Simon!" He reels back and smiles regretfully.  
"I love you?"  
"Just let me in."

She steps inside and he closes the door behind her immediately while she puts down her bag before looking up. 

The living room is a mess. Actually, that is putting it lightly. The living room is a ground of destruction.

Clary is fairly certain that nothing is where it was when she left this morning. The vase her mom had made for her last christmas is smashed next to the dinner table, the carpet has obviously been dragged around and is laying crumbled in the corner of the room and the small table next to the couch is tipped over. Speaking of the couch.  
"Are those scratch marks?"

Simon is squirming where he stands.  
"To be fair, I didn't know that cats could get so defensive when you accidentally step on their tail." Clary turns around slowly, as if that will make all the damage done to their furniture go away.  
"You stepped on a cat's tail? Wait, no. _Why the hell was there a cat in the apartment?_ "

"You remember when we babysat Chairman Meow last week, right?"  
"Of course, I do. Especially because I told you afterwards that we're going to pawn him off to Jace and Lydia the next time because I will definitely never want a cat in my house." Simon's hands are folding and unfolding rapidly, but he continues as if she didn't say anything.

"Well, we still had the cat food that he didn't eat and I didn't want to waste it, so when the cat turned up on our windowsill I kind of... let her in."  
"You _what_? And then you _fed her_?" He nods mutely.  
"Simon! What the hell were you thinking? She could have been allergic! What if she comes back because she thinks we're going to feed her from now on."

"I know, I know, I'm _sorry_ ," he says and she believes him because the puppy dog expression on his face is something that cannot be faked (at least not by him.) Still.

"You're right. This was a _stupid_ thing to do."  
"I can pay for a new couch," Simon hurries to say, before she can get out another accusation.  
"And I'll tidy all of this up right now. You can lock yourself into the bedroom and just not come out for the next..." He looks around.  
"... Few hours. But I, I promise I'll make it right."

Clary sinks down onto the one standing chair at the dinner table.  
"We have a shared bank account, Simon."  
"Oh," he says. She looks up and he's closer than she expected, standing at an acceptable distance with a soft expression in his eyes, promising that he loves her and that he'll do anything to make up for even this one mistake. Clary sighs again. 

"I don't ever want another cat in this apartment." He laughs, small and delighted and steps closer.  
"I'll fend Magnus off with a stick," he promises and crouches down so he can look at her. She reaches out and puts a hand on his chest, spreading her fingers that look fragile against the expanse of his torso, and tips up his chin with her other hand.

"No offense," she says, "but I'm pretty sure I should be the one fending." His smile splits open his face, his eyes flickering all over her face, coming to a stop when they reach her lips.  
"That's fair."


End file.
